Takato Riki froze on the spot.
The folding fan in his hand stopped mid-motion, unmoving for a long while.
Is this really a proper basketball team…?
Why is Shohoku full of weirdos?
"Tweet!"
The referee's sharp whistle sliced cleanly through the sideline chaos.
"Game start!"
In an instant, the atmosphere snapped from slapstick comedy to high-stakes sports drama.
The air seemed to solidify. Tension crackled like gunpowder.
Both starting lineups stepped onto the court.
At center court.
Akagi Takenori faced off against Takasago Kazuma.
Takasago was one of Kanagawa's top four centers, no weakling by any means.
But standing before Akagi—built like a steel colossus—he looked a size smaller, already losing in sheer presence.
Makino Juro didn't start. As always, he remained comfortably on standby, completely at ease.
"Ready—"
The referee tossed the ball high into the air.
The orange sphere spun under the spotlight, pulling the breath of thousands along with it.
"HAH!"
Akagi roared, his thigh muscles tightening like carved stone.
He exploded upward like a volcanic eruption.
No suspense.
At the peak, his massive palm smashed the ball with a crisp bang.
"PAH!"
Possession—Shohoku!
The ball shot toward Miyagi Ryota as if it had eyes.
"Fast break!"
The moment Akagi landed, he was already charging forward—
Like a full-speed bulldozer, rumbling into Kainan's frontcourt, the floor trembling beneath him.
Miyagi caught the ball, that signature smirk curling at his lips, arrogance flashing in his eyes.
"Kainan's kings—don't blink."
"Blink once, and you've already lost."
Lowering his center of gravity, he burst forward like a bolt of lightning.
But..
A towering, immovable figure instantly blocked his path.
Maki Shinichi.
In just one face-off, the suffocating pressure crashed down.
It didn't feel like facing a person—
It felt like standing before an unscalable mountain.
No flashy moves.
Maki simply spread his arms and stood there—
Sealing every possible route. Not even the wind could slip through.
"Too naive, Miyagi."
"Until you get past me, don't even think about seeing the rim."
His voice was deep and steady, his gaze sharp as a blade.
The crowd held its breath.
This was the dominance of Kanagawa's number one point guard.
The domain of the King—Maki.
But Miyagi smiled.
He didn't slow down—instead, he charged straight at him, madness flickering in his eyes.
At the instant they were about to collide—
His wrist flicked.
Subtle. Hidden.
No wind-up. No motion from the elbow.
"BOOM!"
A muffled explosion rang out between them.
Maki's pupils shrank.
Where's the ball?!
It vanished right before his eyes, leaving only a faint afterimage—like air torn apart at extreme speed.
That wasn't a pass.
That was—
A strike.
"Accelerated pass?!"
From the sidelines, Sendoh Akira straightened up, his lazy gaze sharpening instantly.
The ball shot forward like a guided missile—
Piercing through Maki and Jin Soichiro's defense.
In the blink of an eye, it landed in the hands of Rukawa Kaede, who had already cut into the paint.
"Nani?!"
Gasps erupted across the arena.
That passing speed—it defied logic!
Rukawa caught it, expressionless, rising smoothly into the air.
Black hair fluttering, one hand gripping the ball, aiming straight for the rim—
A picture-perfect motion.
"Got it!"
On the bench, Kogure Kiminobu pumped his fist, glasses flashing.
But...
Just as Rukawa was about to finish—
The overhead lights were suddenly swallowed by a massive shadow.
A terrifying force surged from behind.
From the corner of his eye, Rukawa saw it—
A hand.
Maki Shinichi.
"Impossible?!"
Miyagi spun around, cold sweat instantly breaking out.
He had been right in front of him—how did he get to the rim in a split second?!
That explosive speed… was he teleporting?!
"Don't get cocky, rookie!"
Maki roared midair, his powerful palm slamming down.
"PAH!!!"
A thunderous block echoed like a firecracker exploding beside the ear.
Rukawa's shot was forcefully pinned down!
"So strong! That's King Maki!"
"Terrifying!"
"Does his defense cover the entire court?!"
The crowd erupted in deafening cheers.
Rukawa lost balance—
But the moment he landed, his core strength kicked in.
His torso twisted sharply...
Midair recovery!
With a flick of his wrist—
A desperate behind-the-back pass!
The ball slipped under Maki's arm, flying to the corner.
There..
Mitsui Hisashi was already set, stance textbook-perfect.
"Nice pass!"
Mitsui's eyes burned as he caught the ball, ready to shoot.
This one's in!
But...
A long arm suddenly cut into the passing lane like a striking viper.
"PAH!"
Stolen!
Jin Soichiro!
That gentle-looking sharpshooter had just displayed razor-sharp instincts—
Perfectly reading Rukawa's pass.
"Fast break!!!"
Without hesitation, Jin whipped the ball forward.
It arced across the court like a shooting star—
Heading straight into Shohoku's half.
There...
A figure in jersey number 10 had already taken off like a wild horse.
Kiyota Nobunaga!
"WAHAHAHAHA!"
"This is Kainan's speed! You slow-moving turtles!"
Laughing wildly, he sprinted at terrifying pace, leaving everyone behind.
The lane ahead—completely open.
A clear path!
"Watch closely! This is the stage for the best rookie!"
"I'm going to shatter the rim!"
Stepping inside the free-throw line, Kiyota loaded his legs and launched into the air.
He would reclaim all the face he had lost—
With this monstrous dunk!
"Hey, you damn monkey—STOP RIGHT THERE!"
A furious roar exploded from behind him.
It grew closer and closer...
Heavy footsteps pounding like an ancient beast in pursuit.
Kiyota turned—
His pupils trembled violently.
Sakuragi Hanamichi was charging in at an impossible speed.
That flaming red hair whipped wildly in the wind, his face twisted like a vengeful demon.
"Who are you calling a monkey?!"
"You're the monkey! Red-haired monkey!" Kiyota shot back.
"Cut the crap! Stop right there!"
Sakuragi leapt—
One step inside the free-throw line.
BOOM!
What monstrous jumping power!
He launched like a rocket—
Catching up midair, even rising higher!
Their eyes met in the air.
Kiyota saw it...
The blazing fire in Sakuragi's eyes.
A wild, devouring instinct.
"Nani?!"
Kiyota's dunking arm was swallowed by a massive shadow.
But...
Sakuragi didn't go for a block.
His right hand shot out—
Grabbing the ball.
Not slapping—
Grabbing.
"PAH!"
Five fingers clamped down like steel bars, gripping the ball with a bone-rattling force.
Two forces collided violently midair.
Kiyota felt an overwhelming strength surge through him—
The ball in his hand wouldn't budge.
It was as if it had been welded into Sakuragi's grip.
"Give it—back to me!"
Sakuragi roared, muscles bulging as he exerted power with one arm.
Before thousands of eyes...
He ripped the ball straight out of Kiyota's hands!
A midair steal!
Brutal domination!
"BOOM!"
Both landed.
Kiyota staggered backward, collapsing onto the floor.
His face blank. Soul gone.
Sakuragi, on the other hand.
Landed firmly, gripping the ball in one hand, not even swaying.
He straightened up—
Looking down at Kiyota from above, his shadow swallowing him whole.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Even breathing seemed to disappear.
Even Makino Juro, "fishing" lazily in the backcourt, raised an eyebrow.
"Tch… guess that special training worked."
Sakuragi tucked the ball at his waist and wiped his nose with his thumb.
A grin spread across his face—
Arrogant enough to make anyone spit blood.
"I told you already."
"On this court—"
"Only the strong have the right to speak."
He tilted his head, staring down at Kiyota.
"Right, monkey?"
END OF CHAPTER
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